


Revenge and Satisfaction

by Lostkitty



Series: Revenge and Satisfaction [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence - Post-Avengers (2012), Eventual Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Loki smut, PWP, Rape/Non-con Elements, Serious Dubcon, Smut, loki won
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 15:15:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 19,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15367425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lostkitty/pseuds/Lostkitty
Summary: Loki won the Battle of New York but, satisfaction not being in his nature, he plots against those who stood against him.  As bait, and as an act of revenge, he kidnaps Tony Stark's sister and is determined to sway her loyalties and make her his.  How does he do this?  With his very talented silver tongue and lots of smutty goodness.





	1. Bound

He appeared in the middle of the night, startling her from sleep, hand over her mouth to smother her scream of surprise. He held her back to his chest and laughed, a low sound that made the primal part of her brain stand at attention. Despite her body’s reaction to the situation, she didn’t know why, but she suddenly felt so very drowsy...

 

She awoke with a start. Breathing hard, she looked around the room.  It was fairly nondescript, but pleasant enough.  It had all the creature comforts of a nice hotel room – big bed, big tv, sofa. But where was she? What did she remember?

 

Loki. Jumbled thoughts crowded her foggy mind. There was a fight. New York. He’d brought war, and he’d won. He’d won, but they still fought. And then, he was in her room. And now she was here. Huh.

 

She wandered around a bit, examining the rooms, whether there was any way out (there wasn’t), when suddenly, there was someone else in the room with her. She had a feeling she knew who. Closing her eyes and centering herself for a moment, she turned to greet the intruder/kidnapper.

 

“Hello, Sara.”

 

That voice. So deep, so charming, cutting her to her core. Loki. The videos she’d seen of him hardly did him justice. He was breathtaking, all tall, dark, and godly. But he was also _other_ , radiating a kind of otherworldliness that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. And then there was the menacing spark in his eye that warned her deeper self of all the trouble that she was in. She breathed in and held it. “Where am I?” she asked, looking around. “Why am I here?”

 

He laughed, voice rumbling with some sort of dark humor. “You are Tony Stark’s sister, are you not? ”

 

Shit. She always knew that Tony would someday get her into some trouble she couldn’t get out of. He was always so sure that he could keep her safe. Damn him. Wait, was he ok? Suddenly she froze. “Where is he? What have you done with him?”

 

“Me?” he asked, good-humoredly. “I have done nothing with that metal brother of yours. He has escaped me.” Now he sounded a touch bitter.

 

She sighed in relief. Whatever issues she may have had, she didn’t want him hurt. Or worse.  

 

“Then what? Why am I here?” she asked.

 

Now his laugh was truly dark, and she shivered. “Oh, pet, you’ve no idea what I have in mind for you.”

 

She backed up a bit, trying to get some distance, and he didn’t follow. Instead, he stared at her with mischief in his eyes. “Oh, darling,” and with this, he moved closer, “You’re the bait.  You will bring him to me. But not yet,” and here he touched her face, almost lovingly. She flinched, but he acted as though he hadn’t noticed. “I will have you as mine first. I will have you wanting me, begging me for more. I will have you betray everyone you love, your humanity, your brother, and you will be mine.”

 

She stared at him, horrified. “What? Why? Why go through the trouble? Why not just dangle me out the window and wait for him to come? Not that I’m advocating that particular plan, mind you, just…why? Why the mind games?”

 

“Because it amuses me to do so,” he said simply. “Your brother very nearly ruined my plans. I will take something that he loves, that is his, and I will make it mine.”

 

She was indignant. “First of all, I don’t belong to anybody, not him, not you. I will never be yours. You took over my planet --”

 

“And I’m doing quite well with it, I might add,” he growled. “Your planet is closer to peace than it ever has been. You humans fight each other in droves.  You value independence and freedom above all things, but what has that brought you? Nations constantly on the brink of annihilation, the very air and soil contaminated nearly beyond repair, war, pain, suffering, and yet you fight a ruler who has the power to end it all? You are weak and pathetic.”

 

“Then why bother with me? If you’re so much better, then why? Just let me go.”

 

“As I said, that idiot brother of yours and his friends have made a mess of things. And sometimes, to achieve a greater goal,” he ran a finger down her jaw line, “you must make an example.”

 

She shivered, not daring to ask what kind of example.

 

He leaned close and whispered in her ear, “Oh, don’t fret. I promise to make your stay as…enjoyable as possible. In fact, I’ll bet that you’ll be begging for my attentions soon enough.”

 

 “I will never,” she said, determinedly.

 

He only laughed. “Until tomorrow, then.” And he disappeared.

 

\----------------------

 

She didn’t sleep. How could she after all of that? What did he have in store for her? She explored the room again, as she had the night before. There was no way out. There wasn’t even a window. Part of her wanted to panic at this, at the claustrophobia of it all, but she had bigger issues to deal with at the moment. There was a table in the room, and about an hour after she woke up, there was a breakfast tray on it. No one had come or gone, but there it was. Curiouser and curiouser.

 

She watched the news, read some of the books in the room, and then otherwise sat around, bored but attentive. Waiting. What was he going to do? Was Tony ok? She supposed it didn’t help to think like that. He had escaped the battle – the war, she reminded herself – he would survive. He was ok. She, on the other hand…

\-------------------------

 

She was lost in thought when he strolled in as though he owned the place, which he probably did. “Hello again.”

 

She startled at the sudden break in silence and jumped up. He smiled at her, all predatory and focused. She backed until she hit something. Only too late, she realized she’d edged herself against the bed. He continued to come at her, slowly, as though he had all the time in the world to cross the room. He finally reached her and rubbed his hand across her jaw. She tried to pull away, but he held her firm. “Get on the bed,” he ordered.

 

She was defiant, firm. “No.”

 

He smiled at her defiance, but took a softer approach. “Please,” he asked. “Get on the bed, or I shall make you.” This last part he whispered in her ear, breath hot and tickling her skin.

 

She shivered, obviously afraid, and not at all aroused by the fact that all 6’2 God of Mischief, new King of her planet, had ordered her in bed with a voice that caressed her spine like silk. Damn her traitorous body and her ridiculous affinity for the bad boys. But she wouldn’t give in. She was better than this.

 

“No.”

 

He hummed in amusement. “Alright then, pet. We do this my way.”

 

One second she was standing her ground, and the next, she was on the bed. She tried to raise herself, to jump off the bed and put as much distance between herself and her captor as possible, but she found herself unable to. It was with a slow dawning horror that she realized why. Both arms, both legs had been tied to the corners of the bed. Not tight enough to hurt, but definitely too tight to allow any real movement. How had he even done this? Unable to move, barely able to think, she froze.

 

He looked down on her in amusement. “So defiant, Pet. Don’t worry. I’ll make it better.”

 

She was terrified. She was tied down, unable to move, and the man (god) who had taken over her planet was looking at her like she was something to eat. She fought her restraints, trying to escape, but it was no use. “Fight all you want, but tonight, I will bring you a pleasure unmatched by any other on this wretched planet.” She shrank away as best she could, but there was nowhere to run. He crawled onto the bed, a fierce look of passioned determination etched upon his face. As he hovered over her, she whimpered. He looked concern for a moment, though she hardly believed that look to be genuine. “Fear not, little one. I intend only to give you pleasure as you’ve never felt. I promise that I have no intention of taking my own from you.” He rubbed his hands up her thighs, lifting her skirt. “At least, not until you ask me to.”  Was that suppose to make her feel better?!

 

He then lifted her skirt all the way to her waist, leaving her open and vulnerable to him. She resisted her restraints as much as possible, but to no avail. “Fight all you want, but you will enjoy this.” And with that, he got to work. He kissed her through her underwear, blowing hot air along her slit. She writhed, wanting both to get as far away as possible, and also feeling the faint stirrings of arousal. She tried desperately to push that one away.

 

He then rubbed her through the cloth, playing with her. He moved it aside, and slid a finger along her folds. She pulled away as far as she could and he _licked_ her, bottom to top. She begged him to stop, but he instead removed her underwear with a flick of his hand. She was now open to him completely, spread wide and unable to escape. He leaned in and licked again, bringing her both feelings of intense pleasure and shame. “Stop, please,” she begged.

 

Once again, he laughed, and plunged a finger into her. He continued to lick her, circling her clit with his tongue and pumping his finger deep inside her. He was relentless in his ministrations and, without her intention or consent, she moaned. She hated the sound as she made it, but it seemed to spur him on. He continued teasing her with his tongue while adding another finger to her core. She arched back and tried to ignore the pleasure building inside her. “Please. Stop,” she tried again, this time sounding less sure than before.

 

But he continued at an intense pace. She hated herself for the buildup she felt coming, for the way she longed to tangle her hands in his hair and beg him not to stop, for the way that his name sat on her tongue, hot and heavy. He murmured to her, “It’s alright, darling. Come for me,” and still she fought, even as she felt that familiar tight coil in her stomach, even as her body flushed hot and her nerves started to tingle. She fought all she could, but in the end, all her fighting didn’t matter. Because she did come. Hard. Because the bastard had been true to his word, and her pleasure crested, higher than she’d ever experienced. She cried out, pulling at her ropes, shoving herself deeper into his mouth, feeling a release like she’d never felt before.

 

He coaxed her through it, laving at her leisurely, bringing her down, slowing the movement of his fingers before withdrawing them completely.

 

He let her breathing settle before undoing her binds with magic, she assumed. She was too worn out to fight, so she curled in on herself and closed her eyes. He pulled the blanket up around her and kissed her head. “Good girl,” he whispered to her. “I’ll return tomorrow.” And then he was gone. She wanted to stay awake, to wrap her head around what had just happened, but soon succumbed to a very deep sleep.


	2. Never Say Never

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again.

Sara slowly came to consciousness, stretching her limbs out luxuriously, reveling in that boneless sore feeling that could only follow a thoroughly satisfying orgasm. Suddenly, she froze, memories shocking her awake as thoroughly as if she’d been doused in ice water. She was not at home, recovering from a night with some hot guy she’d brought home. No, she was who knows where, and she was a prisoner, bait.

 

She pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around them. What was she going to do? She needed to find a way out of here, or a way to warn Tony. She needed to _do_ something. “Panicking is doing something,” she said to herself, not-so-helpfully. She breathed in calming breaths. “Ok, something helpful. Something productive,” she clarified.

 

She sat there until she felt calmer. She needed her wits about her, and thinking rationally required dialing the anxiety down about a hundred notches. Suddenly, her stomach growled, and she realized she was starving. She had no idea how long she’d been asleep or how long it had been since she’d eaten. She looked at the table and, just as before, there was a tray of food. She ate slowly, allowing the nourishment to revive her, to bring back some of her *ahem* spent energy. She allowed her mind to wander back to where it didn’t want to go.

 

Loki. “Good girl. I’ll return tomorrow,” he’d promised. She shuddered. It was all too much. The fear for her brother, the fear for her freaking life, the forced orgasm, the _amazing_ orgasm, she amended. Was she truly this shallow? A pretty face, a powerful man (deity), the world’s best sex (without actual sex), and she’s willing to forget that she’s been freaking kidnapped and used? No. She would fight. She may not have a better plan, but he seemed determined not to hurt her, not really, so she would _defy_. It wouldn’t save the world, but it would ease her conscience.

\----------

She waited. She watched tv. She read. She was _bored._ Maybe this was his real plan. Bore her to death. Maybe she should ask her captor for some sudoku, she snickered. And then, just as before, one minute she was alone, browsing through youtube, and then he was _there_.

 

She gasped. Just a little while ago, she’d been full of fire, of defiance. She’d spent a good portion of the day thinking of all the things that she would say to him, engaging in imaginary conversations and situations, and how she would come out on top. But that was before the heavy burden of boredom set in and had cooled the fire. Now, looking at his imposing form in front of her, both her tongue and her brain went silent.

 

“Hello, Sara,” he said, just as he’d done the day before. And, just like before, she retreated. Apparently, this was their dance, one to be repeated over and over, like one of those residual hauntings. He laughed, devoid of mercy. “Did you not enjoy our time together yesterday? You certainly seemed to, at least, if your moans were anything to go by. That, and the way that you trembled and shuddered beneath me as I made you come, so beautifully, I might add.”

 

She didn’t have words. Damn her, where was her defiance when she needed it most? Where was her bravery? He stalked toward her slowly, seductively, crossing the room and ending up, once again, against the bed.

 

He leaned in to her ear. “Where is the fight, darling? Have I broken you so easily?”

 

That did it. Whatever spell she’d been under crumbled. “I don’t break,” she asserted.

 

“There she is,” he nearly moaned. “I was worried I’d underestimated you.”

 

“You have,” she said fiercely. “I’ll never give in.”

 

Amusement shone bright upon his features. “I look forward to the challenge. Now. Get on the bed.”

 

“Did you not hear me,” she yelled. “I’m not yours. I won’t do as you say.”

 

He closed the distance between them, which wasn’t much to begin with. “If you are so sure, sweet, so positive that I cannot win” he whispered, nuzzling her neck, “then why not get on the bed?  Let me show you what I have to give, and decide if you’re strong enough to resist it.”

 

Damn if her thighs didn’t clench up just a touch at those words. But she wouldn’t let him see it. “No,” was all she said.

 

“Very well, then,” he sighed. “We’ll do it my way.”

 

And once again, (oh how quickly this was all so familiar), she was tied to the bed, all four limbs taut against the ropes that held them. And once again, she fell apart beneath him.

\-------

It went on like that for the next week. He would appear, tie her to the bed with magic, give her the most mind-blowing orgasms of her life, and then he would leave, promising to return the next day.  

 

Then, one day, things changed. Not a lot, but enough. He appeared, as usual, tied her to the bed, as usual, but there was something different in the way he came at her. Or maybe the difference was hers. He rubbed his fingers along her slit and smiled. “So wet, darling. All for me?” Horrified, she realized he was right. She was soaking, dripping wet. And yes, it was for him. Like Pavlov’s fucking dogs, salivating for a treat, she was wet with the expectation of orgasm. “Mmmmm…..good girl,” he hummed.

 

And damn if that didn’t hit her lady bits just right either. God, psychologists, behaviorists would have a field day with this. She didn’t want to want him, but her body was a backstabbing bitch like that.

 

“Perhaps this deserves some sort of reward,” he mused. “You are so eager, after all.” She blushed and tried to look anywhere other than him. All of a sudden, the bonds around her ankles disappeared, and her legs were freed. Her arms were still tied tight, but she had a little more freedom of movement. At the moment, she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

 

“Hmmmm…that’s better, is it not?” he asked, innocently, as though he were relieving her discomfort, rather than being the entire cause of it.

 

“Why so quiet, pet?” He rubbed his fingers along her folds, wetting her with her own juices. “I thought you were enjoying yourself.” She held back, oh she really did. But the moan escaped her mouth all the same. He grinned, all torture and pleasure and _winning_ in that smile. “Better,” he said, as he descended on her.

 

She’d been nervous when he released her legs, and now she knew why. At least, before, she was unwilling, able to pretend that it didn’t feel as good as it did, holding on to the fact that she was wholly innocent in all this. But now, now things were different. His tongue circled her clit and her legs spasmed against the bed. When he sucked hard on that bundle of nerves, she wrapped her legs around his shoulders. And when his fingers plunged inside her, goddammit, she pulled him closer, closer. She could feel his smile against her, and she wanted to hate him, but all she could feel was the orgasm approaching closer, filling her with the need to finish.

 

Her ankles dug into his back as that familiar warmth spread through her body. His hands gripped her thighs, even as they pulled his mouth against her. And oh, it was so good, so right. Fuck the consequences, this was heaven. And if it sent her straight to hell, she could deal with that later.

 

His fingers and his tongue set a maddening pace. His other hand dug into her thigh, sure to leave marks, and his mouth burrowed into her as though it couldn’t get close enough, and oh, oh, oh yes, she came, over and over again, worked through by him. As she soared, he grounded her, holding her hips down firmly onto the bed with his hand, maneuvering her through her aftershocks until she was well and truly spent.

 

“Do you see what can be if you just let go, give in?” he asked. “Can you imagine if you just gave in to me? If you were mine?” He released her hands and held her.

 

Despite her fuzzy, post-orgasm high, she had just enough clarity to utter, “Never,” before falling asleep.

 

The last thing she heard was his chuckle, “Oh, darling, never say never,” and he kissed her lips, something he’d never done before. Feeling good enough to allow her worry to wait until tomorrow, she fell into the blissful blackness of sleep. “Tomorrow,” he promised, and then left.


	3. Unbound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki shakes things up a bit.

It had been two weeks. Two weeks a prisoner. Two weeks without sunlight, without fresh air, without another person to talk to. Well, other than Loki, but they didn’t do a whole lot of talking. It was becoming all too much. The walls were starting to close in on her. The isolation was starting to take its toll on her psyche. There was a reason that solitary confinement was such torture.

 

She thought back on her life before Loki and laughed without humor. Back then, she’d thought nothing of holing up in her house for days at a time binging on Netflix or reading every book in a series without a break, interacting with no one. She supposed it was the comfort of choice that held the difference.

 

Thinking about it certainly wasn’t helping anything, and she was on the verge of a full-fledged panic attack when Loki showed up. He considered her for a moment before asking, “My dear, you look tense. Whatever is the matter?”

 

Normally, she’d fight him, yell at him about all the things that were _the matter_. She’d let her anger loose on him, and he would wait until she wore herself out. Then he would take her to bed, where the heat of anger would transform into the heat of passion, and nothing would change.

 

But not this time. Today she felt defeated. She didn’t want to fight. She wanted sunlight. She wanted… “A window,” she said.

 

He looked at her quizzically, as though her words made no sense, which, she supposed, they didn’t. “A window,” she repeated. “I need a window.”

 

He didn’t respond, and she dropped her head into her hands. She closed her eyes and centered herself before looking back up. “Please, Loki. The walls are closing in on me. I need sunlight, space, more than these walls. Please. I’m not asking to leave. I just need a window.”

 

He considered her words before breaking into a smile. “And what would you be willing to give me for such a gift?”

 

She was surprised. Give? What could she give? He held all the cards. “What do you want?” she asked.

 

If possible, his smile grew bigger. “I want you to get on the bed.”

 

That was all? It seemed like such a small thing to trade. So why did she hesitate? Because it felt like giving in. Every day she’d been here, he’d asked her to get on the bed, and every day, she’d refused. Through all this, she’d held on to the fact that she was completely unwilling. Even as her traitorous orgasms ripped through her body, even as her legs pulled Loki closer to her dripping wet sex, she’d been soothed by the knowledge that she hadn’t _given_ him anything, she hadn’t given in. Though such a small thing, this would be giving him _something_ , a form of compliance. She wasn’t sure she was willing to give him that.

 

But it was such a small thing. Not so much complying as…cooperating. Against her will. Saving them both a step that wasn’t a struggle anyway, considering his use of magic. And what she would get in return would be worth it, wouldn’t it? She’d be able to look outside, maybe figure out where she was being kept, possibly get someone’s attention and get help. Yes, see? It wasn’t cooperation. It was resistance, if you really thought about it.

 

Having worked her mind around it enough to feel somewhat comfortable, she looked back at Loki. The whole time she’d been thinking, he’d just stood there, waiting quietly for her to organize her thoughts. He looked contented enough, as though he could wait all day.

 

She licked her lips, absentmindedly. She found it hard to get the word out, to agree with him on anything. She nodded. “Ok.”

 

“Ok?” he repeated, derisively.

 

“Yes. You give me a window, and I’ll get on the bed.”

 

He grinned. “Smart girl. Bed first, though.”

 

She hesitated. Would he go back on his word? God of lies, he may be, but she didn’t believe he would. He had been up front and honest about everything so far. She nodded again and moved toward the bed.

 

“There’s just one more thing, love,” he said, stopping her approach. “Just one other tiny thing in exchange for your view onto the world at large.”

 

Shit. God of mischief. She should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. “What else?”

 

“I want you unbound,” he answered wickedly.

 

“Unbound?” she questioned. “As in –“

 

He stepped closer. “--as in, no restraints. Just you in the bed, me between your legs, and your good behavior. Once I’ve brought you to orgasm,” God, that word with that voice made her tremble, “I shall do as promised and give you a window.”

 

Well that last part was easy enough. The man was a god in bed, literally, she supposed. But the rest of it…She didn’t know what to do. No restraints. It sounded like freedom, but she knew it to be otherwise. It was _compliance_ , the very feeling she’d twisted her mind around in order to get the window. It was still against her will, she knew, but it felt like more. It felt like _participating_.

 

Loki just stood there patiently. Waiting for her to decide. She hated him for it. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, as though he knew what she was thinking.

 

She thought about saying no, about sucking it up and sitting in this windowless prison until she was rescued or until Loki moved on in his scheming. But when would that be? Days? Weeks? God forbid months or years. She thought about time stretching out before her, an indeterminate amount, bringing the walls in closer and closer. She thought of dying before ever looking outside again. And she knew that she would give in someday. She would give him whatever he wanted for just that taste of a little more freedom, for the illusion of it. And what would his price be then? It could be so much more. More than her _compliance_ , her participation. She remembered why Loki was doing all this to begin with, to hurt Tony, to get even with him. Perhaps one day his price would cost more than even her body or her mind. Perhaps it would cost her everything.

 

She didn’t answer Loki, didn’t say anything, didn’t even look at him. She just walked over to the bed and sat down.

 

Loki practically purred in satisfaction. He climbed into the bed beside her and gently pressed her down, crawling over her. She held her breath. This was different. Loki tended to be all business in these matters. Sure, he was doing absolutely devilish things to her nether regions, but he never strayed anywhere else, never touched her anywhere else, and certainly never held his body mere inches above her own, as he did now. It felt so intimate, him being so close she could feel his body heat, his breath on her neck. But still, he didn’t touch her. She thought he might kiss her and was unsure of what she would do if he did. But instead, he leaned closer to her ear and whispered, “Lift up your skirt, love.”

 

This too was different. Normally, he was in charge of everything. If she wore pants, he got rid of them. If she wore a skirt, he lifted it. She didn’t even have any underwear at this point. Perhaps she’d gone too long without human contact (other than, well, you know). Perhaps she was getting a little too comfortable with the routine. Either way, Loki’s sudden _presence_ , the intimacy, the closeness of him, had her shivering with anticipation. She realized something awful in that moment. She wanted him. She wanted more than he’d given. She wanted to touch him and to have him touch her, to feel his hands on her body, his lips on hers, their hot flesh pressed together, and his cock pushed deep inside her. She shuddered at the thought. Hands shaking, she lifted her skirt for him.

 

“So good for me,” he murmured. His hot breath blew against her neck as he spoke, and she clenched her thighs together. He smiled. With her hands unbound, it took every ounce of control not to grab him and pull him closer, to touch that beautiful face, to run her fingers over his lips.

 

As though reading her mind, he reached down and grabbed her hand, gently, and pressed it to his cheek. “It’s alright, darling. You can touch me.”

 

Once her hand came into contact with his skin, she seemed to lose all control over its actions. Her other hand came up and, together, they stroked his cheekbones, his jawline. They traced over the shape of his face. He was even more beautiful this close, and she couldn’t seem to stop touching him. Her thumb skimmed over his lips, so much softer than she’d imagined, and he sighed contentedly, closing his eyes. Oh God he was always beautiful, but like this, reveling in the feel of her hands upon him, he was stunning. One hand stayed there, on his lips, as the other made its way down his neck.

 

They stayed that way for a minute. Now she wanted him to kiss her, was desperate for it. His lips were so close she could feel his breath mingling with her own. If he breathed too deeply, his lips would be on her own, and she knew all her resolve would shatter. Instead, he reached down between their bodies and guided his hand between her clenched thighs and into her very wet heat.

 

She closed her eyes and arched against him. He laid his head on her shoulder and twisted his fingers expertly inside her. She grabbed his head and held him to her, writhing beneath his body, still hovering so closely above her own, propped up on one arm as his other continued to work at her, bringing her orgasm closer.

 

He pulled himself off her and moved down. She whined at his loss and then cried out when his tongue licked a long stripe along her folds. She pulled at his hair as his hands continued to maneuver within her, all the while sucking and nipping at her clit. It was slower than usual, he was taking his time, unhurriedly building her pleasure higher and higher. She was so close, so desperately close to what promised to be an epic orgasm when he very suddenly pulled away from her.

 

She cried out in frustration as her release was denied. Her body, so used to the routine, to a quick completion, clenched up with unreleased tension. He licked her clit and she moaned, tugging at his hair, trying to get him closer. “Would you like me to continue?” he asked, innocently.

 

What? Yes, of course she wanted him to continue. What kind of question was that? She made a whining, affirmative sort of noise and nodded.

 

“Mmmmm…” he hummed. “Beg.”

 

Wait. What? She looked up at him. His fingers still moved maddeningly within her, and he circled her clit with his thumb, enough to leave her a panting mess, but not enough to make her finish. She couldn’t think straight. She didn’t understand. “What?” she asked, confused.

 

“Beg me. Tell me that you want me to bring about your ecstasy, that you want me to ravage you with my fingers, with my tongue. That you want me to make that aching cunt clench in pleasure, gushing all over my hand as you come. Tell me that you want more, love, and I will give it to you.”

 

Oh, she understood now. That opportunistic son of a bitch. This was all a part of his plan. He’d waited two weeks for her to ask for something, for her to begin to crack at the edges, all the while making her reliant on him, for his company, his touch, his amazing orgasms. And then he’d taken those cracks and nudged at them, just a little, spreading them too minutely for her to notice. She’d gotten on the bed willingly, unbound, let her desire overcome her senses, touched him, held him close, urged him on. This wasn’t resistance in any form, it wasn’t even unwilling cooperation. She thought she’d given in on so little, but now she saw how much she’d really given him.  It had all been so easy. And even now, as his plan came into focus, as she realized how far she’d fallen, she still wanted to give him _more_.

 

His tongue tickled her clit and she moaned again, squirming, desperately wanting more friction, but he kept it from her. “Sorry, pet, no more until you tell me you want it. I’d hate to think you were unwilling,” he said, innocently.

 

Ha! As if that had ever concerned him. She groaned and pressed her palms to her face. She needed to think. But it was so hard when he….”Stop,” she said, sounding much more sure than she felt.

 

He looked up at her, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Are you sure?” he questioned, nuzzling against her folds.

 

No, she was not sure. But she knew that she needed to think, to get her head straight and really figure out what she wanted, what she was doing. “Yes. I’m sure,” she asserted.

 

He sat up, smiling. Damn him, he’d expected her response. That made her uneasy. If this was all part of his plan, what more did he have in store for her? “Well,” he answered, pulling her skirt back down over her legs, “if you’re sure…” He leaned over her, just barely touching his lips to hers, “then we’ll just try again tomorrow.”

 

\------------------------------

 

It went on like this for three more days. He worked her slowly, deliberately, drawing out her pleasure, leaving her a screaming, writhing mess, and then he stopped, her body halting to a stop like a speeding car halting into a wall. Every day he asked her if she wanted more, asked her to beg, and every day she said no.

 

She’d tried touching herself. She’d always been good at finding her own orgasm, but her body refused, finding her own touches inadequate compared to Loki’s talented ministrations.

 

It was her fifth day of no orgasms and Loki was really pushing her resolve. His movements had her shaking with need, clutching at his head, his hair, the sheets, anything she could grab.  His pace was torturous, no longer the delicate movements of the past few days, but designed to wring the most pleasure from her body. She was almost in tears, the sensations overwhelming her. She was so close, body a live wire, begging for release as her words had failed to do. She was coiled tight, practically vibrating. And then she felt it, the slightest pulling away of his attentions. And this time it was too much. It was unbearable.

 

“Loki,” she called out. “Please.”

 

“Hmmm?” he asked, waiting for more. He slowed infinitesimally, just enough to delay her orgasm, but not enough to halt it altogether.

 

“Please,” she repeated. “I’m begging you. Keep going. Don’t stop. Please, Loki.”

 

 “Of course, darling. Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said. And then he blew her freaking mind. She screamed and bucked and clenched, clawed and scratched and arched. It raced through her, eliminating all coherent thought. Her world narrowed to Loki, to his hands, his mouth, his warmth, and the overwhelming sensations rushing through her.

 

She slowly came down with his help. He made it gradual, slowing his movements, gently easing her back. She was gloriously undone, and at that moment, it was all worth it.

 

She lay there, still breathing heavy, still a bit dazed, and he stood to go.

 

“Wait,” she heard herself say. “Don’t go.”

 

He looked at her, questioningly. “Please,” she said again.

 

He sat back on the bed, but only for a moment. “Oh, my sweet, I wish I could stay, but I can’t. There are urgent matters awaiting me outside. Lest you forget, I am king of this little world.”

 

Actually, she had sort of forgotten. Or, rather, she just hadn’t given it too much thought. It was all too surreal, locked here alone, dealing with the changes in her own life, while the world outside had changed without her. She had watched the news the first few days, but it had overwhelmed her, and she’d avoided those channels for a while now. Besides, it was obvious that Loki had control of mainstream media now and that they were reporting only what he wanted them to.

 

But now that she thought of it, it was strange. He ruled this planet now. He probably had wars to deal with, threats against his authority, and yet, here he was, day after day, delivering pleasure like she’d never imagined. Once again, it became a little too much, and she pushed the thoughts aside. She’d deal with them later.

 

“Ok,” she said, and went to turn around. She couldn’t explain it, but she felt rejected.

 

“Oh, darling,” he said, pulling her hand to his lips and kissing her fingers. “I am so very sorry.” He sighed, thinking. “I promise, love. I will stay longer tomorrow. You must be so lonely here, all alone.”

 

She nodded. Yes, that must be it. She was just lonely. She couldn’t be blamed for needing another person around. And since Loki was the only other “person,” he’s who she wanted. It made perfect sense.

 

He cupped her face, gently turning it to him. “I shall return tomorrow.”

 

Again, she nodded. He smiled in response, and it looked so kind, so genuine, that she almost believed it was for her. “Good night then,” he offered, and then he kissed her lips. He lingered there longer than he had ever done before. It was soft, but firm, and it lit a fire in her belly once again.

 

Too soon, it was over. He pulled back and sighed, tucking a strand of her hair back behind her ear. If she didn’t know better, he looked almost…wistful, like he wished he could stay. Must be her Stockholm Syndrome. He got up and disappeared.

 

She lay there a long time, thinking about everything and nothing. Eventually, she managed to sleep.

 

\----------------

 

When she woke up the next morning, she squinted hard at the light in her room and shoved a pillow over her head. Stupid mornings.

 

Then she popped up. Light. So much light. Outdoor light. Morning light! She hadn’t seen it in weeks. She looked across the room and, sure enough, there was a very large floor-to-ceiling window where before there had been only a wall. She ran over to it and basked in the warmth of the morning light.

 


	4. Freedom is a Lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of those non-smutty chapters that happens sometimes. Talking and people-watching.

“Does it satisfy?” a voice whispered right in her ear.

 

She grinned and turned around. Without thinking, she lifted herself up onto her toes and threw her arms around his neck in an enthusiastic hug. “It’s perfect. Thank you, Loki.”

 

Loki just stood there, stunned at the sudden show of affection. A moment later, the shock wore off and he returned her embrace.

 

At some point she actually thought about the position she was in, hugging Loki, a god, her king, her kidnapper, and she pulled away slowly, slightly embarrassed. He only smiled down at her, amused.

 

“So..,” she began, awkwardly, “how’s Earth?”

 

He laughed. “Earth is fine, love. How are you?”

 

She turned to the window and closed her eyes. “Better.”

 

He stood beside her and looked out. “And the view?”

 

She had been so caught up in the moment that she’d completely forgotten to actually _look_ outside. She stepped right up to the glass and surveyed the world beyond her prison. She was about five stories up, and it gave her an expansive view of the world around her. Below, she could see people walking on the sidewalk, some hurrying, some milling around, all going about their lives, oblivious to her watching them from her perch above. Cars drove along the street, as they always had, and she wondered where they were all headed. Across the street was a beautiful little park, full of children, families, runners. It had trees, a pond, a playground, and a trail. Outside the window, life went on as it always had. She didn’t know what she’d expected, but she hadn’t expected it to all be so _normal_ , like nothing had changed. The normalcy felt somehow surreal, like one of those Twilight Zone episodes where the main character was the only one who knew how _wrong_ everything was and couldn’t get anyone to believe them. She was pretty sure those characters never got a happy ever after and usually ended up dead or crazy. She frowned at the thought.

 

It was also all incredibly nondescript. There was nothing that gave away where she was, no signs, no major landmarks. She could be in any city on the planet. It was a lovely view, though, and it made her smile. As she watched, a child across the street seemed to look straight at her, and she lifted her hand to wave.

 

“They can’t see you,” Loki said, and she dropped her hand. The child suddenly turned, perhaps hearing his own name called, and ran back into the park.

 

“Thank you, Loki,” she repeated.

 

He turned her toward him and lifted her hand to his lips. “I did promise.”

 

She smiled and returned to looking outside.

 

Loki suddenly tensed up, cocking his head as though listening to something. After a moment, he sighed. “I’m sorry, but I must go. I will return later if I’m able. Will you be alright?”

 

She nodded, and he gently kissed her head, then disappeared.

 

\-----------------------

 

She sat by the window for hours, just watching the world move around her. She watched the sun make its way across the sky, watched professionals race around in suits, talking on their phones, watched children play in the park, parents playing with their children, watched dogs catch frisbees and balls, squirrels chase each other up trees, and birds fly around in playful patterns. She couldn’t remember a time that she had ever just sat and watched the world like this, just watched it move, watched it pass, just _exist_. It was surprisingly calming, and she found herself lulled into a contented feeling of peace.

 

At some point she realized that Loki was sitting beside her. She had no idea how long he’d been there, as he was just silently watching the world outside the window, same as her. They sat like that a long while, in each other’s presence, just enjoying the quiet.

 

 “Loki?” she asked, breaking the silence.

 

“Hm?” he responded, still looking outside.

 

“Is Tony still alive?” She didn’t want to ask, but she needed to.

 

“Yes,” he said simply.

 

“Does he know you’ve taken me?”

 

He finally looked at her. “Yes.”

 

She took a shaky breath. “Are you going to kill him?”

 

He looked away again. “I haven’t decided yet.”

 

She thought a moment before asking the next question. “Are you going to kill me?”

 

This time he looked at her intently, as though trying to find something in her face. “No,” he finally answered, “I’m not.”

 

“What will you do with me, then?” she asked.

 

“I haven’t decided that either.” Suddenly his features changed, going from thoughtful and contemplative to alight with humor. “Perhaps I’ll keep you,” he said, grinning.

 

She rolled her eyes, allowing herself to be pulled away from the dark conversation and drawn in by his good mood. “Like a pet?”

 

“Ah, but you would make such a good pet, love. And I an excellent master,” he said suggestively.

 

Filthy images filed her brain before she could push them away. “Master,” she whispered aloud without meaning to.

 

His eyes darkened, and he touched her face, running his thumb along her jaw, her lips. “See? It wouldn’t be so bad. I’d make sure that all your needs were met, that you were always satisfied.” His words dripped with double meanings, and she shivered.

 

Quite suddenly, her mood changed. “Not all of them, though,” she said sadly, turning her face to look outside.

 

He noticed the change immediately. “What do you mean?” he asked. He stroked her hair, her back. “What can I not give you? I am king of this planet. It is on the verge of a peace heretofore unknown. I am a god and have power you cannot imagine.” He held her face in his hands and looked into her eyes. “What could you possibly ask of me that I couldn’t provide?”

 

She looked back at him. “My freedom.”

 

“Freedom is a lie, love. You don’t need it,” he responded.

 

“You’re never going to let me go, are you?” she asked, looking down.

 

He turned them both, so they were facing the window. He brought her close to him and laid her head on his shoulder. He then rested his own head on hers. He held her close and said, “When the time comes, you won’t want me to.”

 

As she let herself relax into his embrace, closing her eyes against the softening light outside, she wondered if he was right. Day by day, she felt herself losing a little more of herself to him. What would be left of her when all this was over?

 

They spent the rest of the day in companionable silence, Loki holding her close, gently stroking his fingers against various parts of her body, all chaste touches and soft kisses. He seemed in no hurry to go anywhere, to do anything other than sit in her company, and she vaguely wondered if maybe he was lonely too.


	5. You Were Made to be Ruled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Full of Loki/Avengers movie quotes and paraphrasing. Next time, fluffy sex. This time, angry sex.

Loki was in a bad mood.

 

She felt it the moment he popped into the room. It was electric, almost tangible. He didn’t even look at her. “Get on the bed,” he ordered.

 

What? This again? She thought they’d moved past this. Apparently not. “No,” she asserted, crossing her arms.

 

He looked at her, a combination of anger and exasperation. “Don’t do this today, love. At times your fire is entertaining, but I won’t have it today. Do as I ask or –”

 

“Or what?” she interrupted. “You’ll make me? Nothing new there.” She paused. He looked tired. Something had happened. “Tell me what’s wrong, Loki. What happened?”

 

“What’s wrong?” he practically snarled. “What’s wrong is that I’m on a planet of idiot humans who are too stubborn and too stupid to see what’s best for them. You are, all of you, beneath me, and hardly worthy of the attention I’ve bestowed upon your puny planet. Now,” he said through gritted teeth, “get on the bed.”

 

Oh, it was on. They’d been getting along well lately, and she’d been lulled into complacency, her anger all but forgotten in his tender embraces. But not now. His words set fire to the simmering coals of indignation that still lurked within her. And the flames felt good, burning through her veins, begging for a fight.

 

“Why, Loki? Because that’s what’s _best_ for me? Being _kidnapped_ is what’s best for me? Being kept from the world, alone, unable to talk to anyone, being used as _bait_ is what’s best for me?! Being tied up and used for your pleasure is what’s best for me?”

 

He stepped close, his smile something dark. “My pleasure? If I recall, you were the one writhing beneath me, begging for more.”

 

She blushed, damn him. “No, Loki,” she warned. She would not let him put out her fire so soon. “Stay back,” she demanded. “Don’t touch me.”

 

He stepped forward anyway, ignoring her command. “Or what?” he asked, mimicking her. “You’ll make me?” His smile was practically feral now, and she hated the feelings it brought out in her. Fear, yes, but something so much darker too.

 

He closed the space between them, chuckling menacingly. He brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, and she shivered. He leaned in close, whispering, “See that? You humans are so weak.” He ran a finger down her neck, between her breasts, a light touch that made her weak in the knees. “Such slaves to your baser instincts. You were made to be ruled. How fortunate you are to have me here to help you, to put you in your place.”

 

She was about to fight him on that, but then he licked a delicate stripe around the cuff of her ear, and she lost control of her anger, felt it receding in the presence of her all-encompassing _want_. She clutched at him, pulling herself closer, pressing herself against his body. And that’s when she felt it. A very big, very hard _it_. He was aroused, too. The knowledge gave her anger, her defiance, a little bit of leverage against her desire, enough to think reasonably again. She was angry, and she meant to start a war.

 

“Hm,” she hummed at him. “It seems as though gods are just as beholden to their own desires as us lowly humans,” she said, leaning in to his erection. He stopped breathing a moment, and she knew there was no stopping now. She felt drunk on power, fueled by the heat of anger and lust. She trailed her hand down his chest, down to the front of his pants, and palmed him firmly, squeezing him through the leather.

 

He grabbed her hand and roughly pulled it away from his body. “Don’t,” he warned.

 

“Why?” she asked innocently. “Because you _like it_?” She stepped back and lifted her dress over her head, quickly removing her bra right after. She had never been naked in front of Loki before, but here she was, standing completely bare before him. It should have made her nervous, but the wild look on his face, the way his eyes raked over her body, she felt strong, sexy. She felt like bringing down a god.

 

She sauntered over to him, and he moved backwards. She pushed him, lightly, and he let her, until he was pressed against the wall. “I want you to fuck me, Loki,” she said, her voice low and seductive. She could see his throat move as he swallowed. She pressed her naked body against him and put his hand on her waist. “I want you to fuck me because you _want_ to, because you want to feel my human thighs wrapped around your waist as you thrust deep into my wet human cunt, because even though you may be a stronger, more powerful being, a god, even, when it comes to this,” she stroked his cock through his pants, “you’re no better than any of us.”

 

His eyes blazed with rage, with lust, and he grabbed her shoulders, hard. “Get on the bed,” he ordered again.

 

She stared back at him. “ _You_ get on the bed.”

 

Something broke then, between them. She didn’t know who moved first, but suddenly their lips were pressed tightly together, a passionate fight of tongues and teeth, both seeking to dominate the other. She pulled hard at his hair and he groaned into her mouth. “Like that, do you?” she asked, almost mocking. He responded by turning her around so that her back was against the wall. His mouth was everywhere, on her neck, her breasts, her stomach. She arched into him and he pulled her legs around his waist. His hands cupped her naked ass, and he pressed his hard cock against her, creating a friction that left her speechless. His head bowed down and he took one of her nipples into his mouth, licking it, teasing it, biting it, bringing just the right amount of pain.

 

“Loki,” she gasped. She grabbed his collar and made him look at her. “Clothes off. Now,” she ordered. He smirked and put her down. She hated the loss of him, but she needed to see him, to touch him. She shouldn’t have been surprised that he used magic to remove his clothes, but she was. Maybe it was the suddenness of the change. She’d never seen him in anything but his full Asgardian garb, which covered just about every delicious part of him, and now, with hardly a flick of his fingers, he stood before her in all his naked glory.

 

His smirk deepened as she moved closer, touching him almost reverently. Her hands skated over the lean, firm muscle of his chest, arms, and stomach. She had never had the urge to push a man down and _lick_ every inch of him, but she felt that now. She wanted to taste him, to feel every part of him touching every part of her. And then there was his cock, standing stiff and heavy against her stomach, just begging for her attention. So many dirty thoughts flooded her mind at once that she could hardly follow them. She wanted to do everything to him, wanted to make him beg and moan and cry her name as he came undone.

 

She was so busy admiring him, touching him, picturing all the ways that she would make a god scream in pleasure, that she forgot that they were in the middle of a game of seduction, of sexual domination. She let herself get lost in the moment, in the sensations of Loki’s body, and when she finally stroked his shaft, it was _she_ who moaned in pleasure.

 

Loki took the opportunity to turn the tables. He grabbed her hair and pulled, forcing her head back to look at him. “Silly girl,” he chided. “Thinking you could best me.” In that moment, she could see the prince that he was. He radiated power, and she felt defenseless against it. He yanked her hair harder, urging her down. “Kneel. For your king.”

 

She didn’t dare disobey, and if she was being honest with herself, she didn’t want to. She wanted to take him in her mouth, to taste him, to _please_ him. She got on her knees. He smiled down at her. “Good girl,” he praised. He rubbed his finger along her bottom lip. “Open,” he said simply.

 

She did as she was told and he guided his cock into her mouth. He still had her hair tangled in his other hand, and he used it to push and pull her around him. He leaned his head back and moaned, and the sound made her wetter. It also reminded her to take some control back, to use his own desire against him, just as he was doing with her.

 

She wanted to push him harder, to reassert herself, but it was difficult in this position. His grip on her head was too firm to pull away, so she brought her hand up and wrapped it around the base of his shaft. She stroked it in time with his thrusts, and she could feel his self-control weaken. She was so close to winning this, to making him shatter. When she brought her other hand up to cup his balls, to squeeze gently, he stuttered a moment, and she thought he might come right then. Instead, he pulled her off him and stared down at her with desperate, lust-blown eyes. He growled at her, a ferocious sound that made her tremble in anticipation, and then picked her up and tossed her unceremoniously onto the bed.

 

She yelped and then he was on top of her, ravishing her body with his mouth, his hands. She returned the favor, scratching at his back, licking him, biting him, urging him on with her words and movements. Through it all, he rubbed his cock against her folds, driving her crazy with the need for _more_ , more friction, more of him inside her, more _Loki_. She started to make little whining noises, arching against him, leaning in, wrapping her thighs as tightly as she could around his slickening cock. Never stopping his movements, his touches, he leaned in close and said, “Show me how superior you are, love. Tell me to stop. Prove to me that you’re more than this.”

 

She was torn. On the one hand, she most definitely did not want to stop. She didn’t think she’d ever wanted anything more than she wanted him right now. On the other hand, she refused to let him be right. About her, about humanity. She would bring him to his knees for equality, for humanity, for America! It was enough to make Captain America proud, she thought. She would have giggled at the absurdity of her train of thought if she weren’t so busy making a myriad of other noises at that moment.

 

“Admit your weakness, and I will give you everything you want,” he said, and wasn’t that just the most tempting offer she’d ever received.

 

Suddenly, she had a plan. She distracted him by shoving her tongue into his mouth and moaning obscenely. She then wrapped her legs around him and used all her weight to flip him over. He grunted in surprise. Before he could get his bearings, she straddled him and pushed herself fully onto his cock. They both stilled for a moment, struck silent by the feeling of him settled so deeply inside her.  And then she started moving, taking him in as far as he could go, relishing the feeling of being so full, so stretched. She moved up and down on him first, getting used to him, and then began rocking back and forth in earnest. She was determined give him all she had and leave him begging for more.

 

Loki took all she had to give, meeting her movements with his own. The sounds he made beneath her made her feel so powerful, riding him, bringing him such pleasure, making him lose himself in her.

 

Loki moaned loudly and readjusted them both, moving partially into a sitting position against the headboard. They were now face to face, and it was more erotic than any other position they’d been in. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and he nipped at her neck. She threw her head back to allow him more access, and he sucked hard at her pulse point. She pulled him closer, kissing his mouth, licking his tongue. They were both working hard to bring about the other’s release, to win this game they’d started. He reached between them and rubbed at her clit, head moving down to take her breast in his mouth. He sucked and licked and bit, all while circling her clit with his oh so talented fingers, and she was on the verge of losing it. She held on, though. She was close, and she knew that he had to be too.

 

She leaned into his ear and whispered as many dirty things as she could think of, how good he felt, how wet he made her, how much she loved feeling him inside her, how she wanted it harder, faster. It worked. He moved away from her clit and put his hands on her hips instead. He pushed and pulled her, setting an exhausting pace that had her fighting against her orgasm with everything she had. She knew she couldn’t last much longer and tried one last thing to make him come first.

 

She leaned into his ear and moaned, “I want to feel you come. _My king_.” It was instantaneous. His fingers dug into her hips so hard she knew she’d have bruises in the morning. He pulled her down onto him as hard as he could, filling her completely, and he came with a strangled cry that ripped though her like an electric current. She’d been so close already, and now she let go, walls clenching at him buried so deep inside her, clawing at his back like he was the only thing keeping her grounded.

 

She collapsed on his chest, listening to his ragged breathing, his racing heart beneath her head. He put his arms around her and held her affectionately. They laid like that a while, letting their bodies relax back into their normal rhythms. Eventually, he pulled her off him and laid down, pulling her close to him and wrapping his arms around her again.

 

“It seems that I may have misspoken earlier,” he said, rubbing her arms tenderly.

 

“Oh?” she asked.

 

He laughed, a sound so happy, so genuine, that it warmed her. “Indeed. Apparently,” he started, lifting her chin with one finger so she was looking at him, “some humans are quite worthy of my attentions.”

 

It wasn’t an apology, and it wasn’t a ringing endorsement for human/alien equality, but it was a win, and she intended to enjoy it. She snuggled in closer to Loki, holding him close, knowing that he would disappear soon, and she would be alone. But he didn’t disappear. He stayed, and they fell asleep in each other’s arms.


	6. Morning Mischief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little fluff for your Monday. Also, Loki has a surprise.

She woke up early the next morning with Loki still in her arms.  She looked at his sleeping face and wondered at how beautiful he was like this, with no schemes, no plans.  He looked so peaceful.  She reached up and stroked his face gently, then trailed softly down his arm, his chest, just enjoying the feel of him so close.  At some point, her touches must have woken him because when she looked up at his face again, he was watching her.  “Good morning,” he said, smiling.

 

“Good morning,” she returned, rubbing her thumb along his jawline. 

 

He caught her hand and kissed it gently.  She let her fingers linger there on his lips, rubbing them softly.  She knew that she was staring, but she was transfixed by his mouth.  She leaned in and kissed him lightly, just grazing her lips over his own.

 

He pulled her closer, and she could feel him hardening between them.  Still, he did not deepen the kiss, letting her take the lead.  She tentatively licked his bottom lip, and she felt his breathing grow rapid with anticipation.  The heat of their arousal sat between them, in them, tense and desperate for release.  And yet, they took their time.

 

“Loki,” she whispered against his mouth, and he moaned, finally deepening the kiss.  It was slow and tender, nothing like the fiery passion of the night before.  His tongue danced against her own, and she couldn’t recall ever feeling so blissful.  She cupped the back of his neck and pulled him closer.

 

He rocked against her, his length pressing into her stomach as he brought her leg up over his own.  She reached between them and stroked him slowly, gently, enjoying the feeling of him hard and heavy in her hand.  He responded with little noises of pleasure, moaned into her mouth.

 

His hand explored her body, tracing her curves reverently.  It trailed up her thigh, over her stomach, and cupped her breast, running a thumb over her nipple and making her gasp in pleasure.  She felt him smile against her lips. 

 

“Loki, please,” she urged, and he rolled on top of her, his weight on his arms as he looked down on her in adoration and longing.  He kissed his way down her neck and took one breast into his mouth, the other massaged by his hand.  His tongue circled her nipple while his hand teased the other.  She arched into him, cupping the back of his head, pressing him closer.

 

He moved back to her mouth, kissing her passionately as his hand ran down her body.  It moved down her neck, her breast, her stomach, and finally came to the spot between her thighs.  She opened them for him, and he rubbed a finger along her folds.  Finding her wet, he pressed one finger into her, making her gasp, and then he removed it.

 

He looked down at her again, eyes full of lust and wanting, but also a request…for permission?  She nodded and wrapped a leg around his waist, pulling him close.  “Yes,” she whispered, and he pushed into her, moaning. 

 

He entered her slowly, letting her adjust, until he was fully sheathed inside her.  Her head fell back at the feeling.  He began to thrust, slow, deep thrusts that rocked her core.  He kissed her as he did so, and she pulled his head closer, wanting as much of him as possible. 

 

They continued like that, unhurried, exploring each other’s bodies with hands and tongues and soft touches, their kisses passionate but soft, their motions bringing them both closer to release.  “More,” she whispered, and he lifted her leg higher, allowing himself to go even deeper, hitting that spot inside her that had her body buzzing.  He increased the pace, and she held onto him tightly, urging him on with whispered praises and moans.

 

They came together, she clenching around his pulsing cock as his come shot deep inside her.  He held himself above her, breathing hard.  She kissed him, and he smiled, rolling onto his back, bringing her with him.  She laid there on his chest, his arms around her, stroking her back. 

 

Eventually, he shifted, moving her off of him and onto her side.  “I have to go,” he said, apologetically.  “Some…complications…have popped up that must be dealt with.”  He noted the way the sky lightened outside.  “I’m afraid I’ve stayed too long, as is.”

 

She nodded.  “I understand.”

 

He stood up and phased into his armor.  He hesitated.  “I may not make it back tonight.”

 

“Oh,” she responded, trying not to feel disappointed. 

 

“But…” he said, “I have in mind to give you a gift.  Would you like one?  It’s to help with when I’m gone.”

 

Her head popped up, her disappointment all but forgotten.  “A gift?  What kind of gift?  Yes, please!”

 

He laughed at her enthusiasm and kissed her again.  “You are a delightful creature.”  He stood and held his hands behind his back.  A moment later, he brought them in front of him again.  They were no longer empty, but instead held…

 

“A kitty?!?” she exclaimed.  “You got me a kitty?!?”  She made grabby hands at the cat, and he gave it to her. 

 

“Made it, actually,” he corrected.  “With magic.”

 

Her eyes went wide.  “It’s a magic kitty?”

 

He nodded.

 

She held the cat up and looked at its face.  It was so soft, with pitch black fur and intelligent green eyes.  “It looks like you,” she giggled, nuzzling her head against its fur. 

 

“It should be so lucky,” he quipped back.  She rolled her eyes.

 

“Let’s hope it has your humility,” she said sarcastically.  “Does it have a name?”

 

He shook his head.  “He doesn’t.  What were you thinking?” he asked.

 

She thought about it and then gave him a teasing look.  “I think I’ll name him Thor.  God of Kitties.”

 

He scowled at her, and she thought about what she’d said.  “Sorry,” she said.  “I don’t even know if Thor’s alive.  Maybe a sore subject for you?”

 

He shook his head.  “Thor is alive, and a pain in my ass, as you humans say.  I should have killed him when I had the chance.”  Hm.  He’d had the chance to kill his brother but didn’t?  She filed that information away for later.  Loki scratched the kitten behind the ears.  “It’s just that this kitty is too smart to be named something so oafish as Thor.”

 

She laughed and gave the kitten a good once-over.  “He looks sneaky.  Is he sneaky?”

 

“He might be,” he answered.  “He wasn’t just made with magic, he is magic.  I’m not sure what he can do, but I wouldn’t be surprised if his magic held a similarity to my own.”

 

She kissed his little kitty nose.  “I’ll name him Mischief,” she said, satisfied. 

 

Loki, too, seemed satisfied.  “A fine name,” he agreed.  He seemed momentarily distracted, and then he brought his attention back with a weary sigh.  “Now, I really must go.  I’ll return when I can.”  He turned to the cat and pointed a finger at it.  “You stay with her, keep her company.  No crossing dimensions until I get back, alright?”  The cat meowed in agreement. 

 

“Wow,” she said, “you are a smart kitty.”

 

Loki smiled and leaned down to kiss her soundly.  She hummed contentedly.  Then he stood up and disappeared, leaving her to play with her new friend. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who's still reading and to everyone who's left comments and kudos. You guys are awesome. 
> 
> I don't necessarily expect an answer to this, but I thought I'd throw it out there. I update twice a week, once on Monday, and once another day. Is there any sort of preference for Wednesday or Thursday? If so, let me know. If not, I'll just keep doing what I'm doing. 
> 
> Thanks, guys!


	7. Garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara plays with Mischief, Loki brings more presents. Fluff and kitties.

Loki didn’t come back that night, but that was ok. She spent the day playing with Mischief. He would run up with a new toy in his mouth, where he got it, only he knew, and they would play until he tired of it. Just as her meals appeared, so did his. She didn’t know if that was Loki’s doing or the cat’s, but his shiny bowl wasn’t filled with ordinary cat kibble. He feasted on immaculately prepared dishes of meat and fish. They may have actually looked better than her own food, she thought amusedly.

 

She had tried to put his bowl on the floor, but when she sat down to eat, there he was in the chair across from her, eating from his bowl on the table. She decided to let it be and ate companionably with him.

 

When she watched tv, he watched with her, seeming to understand what was going on and even reacting with very human-like emotions. He made a little laughing meow when something was funny, and he growled when he didn’t like something. She found herself talking to him about the shows, and she was pleased to see they agreed more often than not. That night, he curled up in bed with her, purring gently as she drifted off to sleep.

 

The next day, as she was walking to the kitchen to grab a snack (she’d made Loki stock up the “apartment” weeks ago with all the necessities, like toothpaste, toiletries, and ice cream), when she stopped suddenly, her mind trying to make sense of something she’d seen in the corner of her eye as she’d left the room. She took a large step backwards, back into the room, and looked over at the window. Sure enough, there was a door right next to it.

 

“You see that door, Mischief?” she asked. He looked over and mewed in acknowledgment, not nearly as impressed as he should be.

 

She walked over to it slowly. She knew it hadn’t been here before. There were no doors at all in this place, so this one stood out sorely. There was nothing interesting about it, it just stood there closed as though it belonged five stories up, seeming to open out to empty air. She looked out the window, but the wall was bare on the other side. No sign of the door, and certainly no balcony or other indication of its reason for existence.

 

She lifted a hand to it and touched its solid surface. Again, nothing out of the ordinary. The cat looked at her like she’d lost her mind, paying so much attention to such a boring door.

 

Maybe it was a test. Maybe Loki put it here to see if she would try to escape. But then why put it five stories out, leading to nowhere? It didn’t matter if it was a trick, she decided. Her curiosity wouldn’t allow not opening it. She took a breath in and reached for the knob, expecting it to stick, locked. But it didn’t. It turned as easily as any other ordinary door, and she pulled it open.

 

She was stunned. Her brain was having quite a bit of difficulty processing what she saw. It _seemed_ to think that it saw an incredible garden, full of plants and blooms she’d never seen. It even thought it _smelled_ all those beautiful flowers. She looked out the window again, and her brain tried to reconcile the empty space it saw in front of her through the glass and the incredible world that stood just inches to the right.

 

If she stepped inside the door, would she fall? Was this just an illusion that would shatter if she touched it? Mischief answered the question for her when he bounded into the garden, excited about exploring a new place.

 

She walked a couple of feet inside and gaped at the world around her. The sky was a dark purple, a night sky, but filled with light of the billions of stars shining overhead, of the galaxies swirling above her. It was breathtaking.

 

“Do you like it?” asked a familiar voice behind her.

 

“It’s incredible,” she answered, not looking away. Loki put his hands on her shoulders, standing close behind her. “What is it?” she asked.

 

“It’s Asgard,” he told her. “One of my favorite gardens.”

 

“I see why,” she said.

 

He hummed in acknowledgment. “I would come here to be alone, to think. It’s not one of the palace gardens, so I could use it to escape when I needed to.”

 

“What were you escaping?” she asked.

 

“My responsibilities, often,” he smiled. “Expectations more often,” he added, a bit more somber. He cleared his throat and pointed off into the distance. “There’s the palace over there,” he noted. He pointed to another spot below it. “And there’s the Bifrost.”

 

“Wow.” She looked at it all in wonder. “I can’t believe you lived here. Why would you leave all this for Earth?” she inquired.

 

He stilled a bit, and she looked up at him, concerned. “That,” he answered, “is a long story.” He sighed. “Let’s just say it didn’t feel like home anymore.”

 

“I’m sorry,” she said, cupping his cheek.

 

He kissed her hand. “You know, I’ve never brought anyone here.”

 

“I bet you say that to all the girls you kidnap,” she teased.

 

“Only the special ones,” he joked back.

 

“We’re not really here, though, are we?” she asked. “On Asgard, I mean.”

 

“No, we’re not,” he sighed. “I doubt I’d be welcomed back with open arms after what I’ve done,” he said with a touch of bitterness, but also some sadness. He held her hands in his own and looked at her. “But I think this is better. It’s a memory, untarnished, perfect. And besides,” he continued, “it has you here, which is definitely an improvement on the real thing.”

 

She blushed. “Thank you for bringing me here. It’s so beautiful.”

 

“You can come here whenever you want. I’ll leave the door for you. And for Mischief, of course.” He nodded over to the cat, who was currently rolling around on his back, happily swatting at a low hanging flower.  

 

“He does seem happy here,” she laughed.

 

“Ah, that reminds me. I’ve crafted another gift for you. For you both, actually.”

 

She looked at him thoughtfully. “Another gift?”

 

He nodded and called Mischief over. The cat complied immediately, running up and nuzzling Loki. Loki scratched Mischief’s ears and laughed. “Now, now, kitten. Stand still for me a moment, won’t you?” And sure enough, the cat stopped and stood regally in front of him. There was a brief flash of light in Loki’s hand, and then it held a gold circlet, decorated with delicate runes of some sort. Though she didn’t see any clasps on it, he opened it and placed it around the cat’s neck. “Good kitty. Do you like it?” The cat mewed pleasantly and seemed to preen in his new jewelry.

 

She bent down and looked at the gold band around his neck. “It’s a collar,” she said, fascinated. She traced her finger over the gold metal and couldn’t see any way to unlock it.

 

Loki watched her hands rub along the unbroken gold circle, and he answered her unspoken question. “It will grow with him.”

 

She petted the kitty, and he purred. “You look so handsome, Mischief!” she exclaimed. The cat seemed to stand taller, prouder under her attentions.

 

“And now for you,” Loki said.

 

She stood up and looked at him skeptically. “You’re _not_ giving me a collar, Loki.”

 

He laughed, genuinely, and the sound warmed her through. “That is a very tempting idea, love,” he said, “but not what I had in mind.” He took her wrist in his hand and traced his thumbs around it. There was another flash of light, like before, and then there was a bracelet, an unbroken circle of gold decorated with delicate runes, just like Mischief’s collar. She gasped. It was a gorgeous thing, fitting her perfectly, snug but not uncomfortable, and probably impossible to remove.

 

She looked at Loki questioningly. She opened her mouth to ask him about it, but he spoke first. “Talk to Mischief,” he told her.

 

She still looked confused, so he continued. “Praise him again,” he urged.

 

She looked down at her kitty, whom she’d grown so attached to in such a short time. She picked him up and kissed his head. “You’re such a pretty kitty. I love you so much.”

 

And she _felt_ his response. His flood of pride and happiness, his own love for her. She gasped.  “That’s incredible!” She looked to Loki. “I can read his mind?”

 

“Not his mind, no,” Loki answered. “But you can feel his thoughts, his feelings. You can communicate with each other now.”

 

She looked down in wonder. “You can feel me too, Mischief?” The cat nodded and pat her nose with his paw. She felt his happiness, but also the impatient desire to play, to explore the garden more. She laughed and set him down. “Go on, then. Go play.”

 

She looked to Loki and embraced him. “You’re amazing, Loki.”

 

He held her back and hummed. “I’m sure you say that to all your kidnappers.”

 

“Just the special ones,” she responded, and she kissed him.  

 

He kissed her back and pretty soon they were naked and panting, making love on the soft grass, coming undone in each other’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have half a mind to do a third update this week, tomorrow. No promises, but it might happen.


	8. Hot Chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once I looked at the chapters remaining on this story, I'd considered not posting this third update, but I do hate to say I'll do something and then not. So, here's a bit of fluff to hold onto until next time. Smut next week, I promise. Getting toward the end, though, so I hope you like it!

It was raining outside, and she decided to be cozy about it. She went to the kitchen to make some hot chocolate (another necessity), and Mischief jumped up on the counter to sniff at her cup. “You want to try it, kitty?” she asked, and he nodded. She put a little whipped cream on a spoon and held it out to him. He sniffed it, gave a tentative lick, then finished the whole thing off quickly. She watched as he suddenly jumped off the couch and ran over to his bowl (on the table, of course), and saw that it was now filled with whipped cream. “I guess he liked it,” she thought, amused.

 

She returned to the living room and moved the couch over to the window. She grabbed her hot chocolate and snuggled under a blanket. When Mischief finished his treat, he came over and sat in her lap, where he watched the rain and then drifted off to sleep.

 

Loki appeared a while later and watched the two for a moment. “What are you doing?” he asked.

 

She smiled up at him. “Watching the rain.”

 

“Why?” he asked, confused.

 

“Because it’s nice,” she answered. “Wanna join?” She patted the seat next to her.

 

He didn’t look very interested in the prospect, but he sat down anyway. “And what is that?” he asked, pointing to her drink, piled high with new cream.

 

“It’s hot chocolate, of course.” He scrunched his nose and made an unimpressed face. She gawked at him. “Loki, don’t scoff at my hot chocolate! It’s amazing!” she added, closing her eyes and humming delightedly as she took a sip. “You should try it,” she urged, pushing it at him.

 

“I think not,” he said, pushing it back.

 

She put some whipped cream on her finger and held it to his mouth. “Come on, Loki. Just one little taste,” she said, teasing.

 

He looked like he was going to reject it again, but then decided otherwise. He popped the tip of her finger into his mouth and licked it clean, then released her finger with a pop. It was so incredibly arousing, and she was about to lean forward and do naughty things to that mouth, when he suddenly looked up. “Hm, that _is_ good,” he said, and reached for her cup.

 

She was caught off guard from the abrupt switch in direction, and he managed to take the cup from her. “Hey!” she exclaimed. “That’s mine.”

 

“Tsk, tsk, darling. You really must learn to share.” He scolded.

 

“Fine,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’ll go get another one.”

 

She made to stand up, and he pulled her back down. “No need,” he said, and handed her another mug full of hot chocolate and whipped cream.

 

“Ooh, useful,” she said, taking a sip. “Mmmm…magically delicious.”

 

They snuggled close together on the couch, watching the rain, sipping on their drinks. “I love the rain,” she said.

 

“I don’t,” he replied.

 

She considered this. “I guess when your brother is the God of Thunder…” she said.

 

“…you get rained on. A lot. Yes,” he finished. “Several of my earliest spells involved conjuring umbrellas and getting dry.”

 

She laughed. “I bet you deserved it.”

 

He feigned hurt. “I certainly did not. I was a perfectly wonderful brother, I’ll have you know. I never did anything wrong.”

 

“Hm,” she answered. “So, _God of Mischief_ , you never _ever_ played any pranks on your poor brother?”

 

“I would never,” he answered, indignantly. But the wide grin that appeared on his face told an entirely different story. “That’s what I thought,” she said.

 

His smile was mischievous with remembrance. “He always fell for the same pranks over and over again. It was a simple pleasure, but it was fun.”

 

“Do you miss it?” she asked. “Those days?”

 

“Sometimes,” he answered, truthfully. “But we can’t ever go back.”

 

“You can’t ever go home,” she answered. He looked at her questioningly. “It’s something we say on Earth. It sorta means that the memories you have of things don’t hold up as you grow older, change. It’s not the same, and it never can be.”

 

He sat back and thought about it. “Yes, I think you’re right.”

 

“You didn’t kill him,” she noted.

 

“No,” he answered.

 

“You wanted to?” she asked.

 

He sighed. “I thought so.”

 

“You love him,” she stated.

 

He laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

 

She looked at him. “No?”

 

“It’s complicated,” he responded.

 

She waited a moment before continuing. “Me and Tony were like that too. He would mess with the electronics on my toys or, if there were no electronics, he’d add them. Then he’d make them chase me around the room or repeat everything I said for hours. It was the worst,” she said, rolling her eyes, but smiling.

 

“And did you retaliate?” he asked. “Any mischief of your own to speak of?”

 

“Oh yes,” she answered. “I shaved off his eyebrows while he was asleep.”

 

Loki gave out a loud, genuine laugh. It sounded so carefree. She wondered if she could make him do that again.

 

So she told another story, and then another, enjoying Loki’s laugh and the way he relaxed around her. The next few hours were filled with stories about their childhoods, pranks played, trouble they’d gotten into with their brothers or because of their brothers. But also stories of triumphs they’d shared together. She realized that there had been a time when Loki truly loved Thor, when he would have done anything for him. She wondered what had changed, but she didn’t want to ask, to ruin the light mood they shared.

 

They settled into a comfortable silence, just holding each other and watching the rain. Mischief laid on the spot where their legs touched, trying to be close to both of them.

 

“I suppose,” he conceded, “that if you’re not being specifically targeted by the rain, that it’s not so bad.”


	9. Complicated and Strange and Probably Very Unhealthy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little smut, some feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Monday update! More smut next update. Probably Wednesday?

Loki hadn’t come by in a week. She was starting to panic. He’d never gone more than a day without visiting. The first couple of days weren’t terrible. She’d managed to distract herself in the garden, playing with Mischief, reading, finding shows they both liked. She’d told herself that he was busy, that he was distracted, that he would come soon.

 

But by the end of the week, she was pacing the floors restlessly, setting Mischief on edge with her nervous fidgeting. She was having trouble sleeping, wondering what had happened.

 

Was he dead? Pushing aside the complicated feelings that came with that thought, she focused on what would happen to her. If he died, would she be stuck here forever? She didn’t know where she was or how well she was hidden. What if no one ever found her? The thought set off an intense sense of claustrophobia that she hadn’t experienced in months.

 

Mischief did his best to comfort her, but she could tell that he was worried too.  He loved Loki, and her worry fueled his own. For his sake, she tried to tamp down her feelings. She just wasn’t very good at it.

 

Loki finally appeared on the eighth day. He stood in front of her, looking exhausted. If she hadn’t been a tightly coiled ball of nervous energy, she might have comforted him, looked over him, made sure he was alright.

 

But she _was_ a tightly coiled ball of nervous energy, so she pounced on him, nearly knocking him over, which should have worried her, in and of itself. “What the hell, Loki?! Where have you been?” she shrieked at him, relief and anger flooding out of her. She banged on his chest. “You can’t do that to me!” she screamed at him. “You can’t just _leave_ me like that, not knowing what had happened, where you were, if you were…”she choked on the word.

 

He grabbed her and held her close to him, restricting her movement, stopping her hands from beating against him. “Please don’t be angry, love. Please,” he begged, kissing her head. “I couldn’t come, I’m sorry.”

 

She was still frantic, her body full of electric nerves with no outlet. She reached up and pulled his head down to her, and she kissed him passionately. He seemed caught off guard, pulling her off and looking down at her questioningly.

 

“Please, Loki. I need to know you’re here,” she said, grabbing his collar and pulling him close.

 

“I’m here, love,” he whispered. “I’m here.”

 

This time he kissed her, hard, passionately, as though he too needed to know she was real, that she was there. They tugged at each other’s clothes, yanking them off inelegantly, he helping with his garb when she couldn’t figure out how to get it off. Eventually, they stood there naked, panting, clutching at each other, hands grabbing and digging in everywhere they could touch.

 

They tumbled into bed and explored each other’s bodies as though they’d never done so before. She reached down between them and grabbed Loki’s hard cock, guiding it to her entrance. He wasted no time and thrust hard into her, making her cry out. She held tightly to him as he set an intense pace, losing himself in her tight wetness, allowing himself to push aside all thoughts other than _her_ , her body, hot and soft beneath him, her inner walls, clenched so tight around him, her scent, her hands digging almost painfully into his back, and her legs wrapped so tight around his waist, urging him deeper. In her, with her, he could forget everything else.

 

She came suddenly, pulling him tighter with her legs, trembling and clenching. He never slowed his pace, thrusting harder, faster, seeking his own release. It was almost too much after her orgasm, and then he came too, shoving himself deep inside her, squeezing her hip painfully as he did, crying out.

 

And then they collapsed together, a sweaty tangle of limbs, struggling to catch their breaths. She leaned over and patted his cheek playfully. “Glad you’re alive,” she said.

 

He laughed. “As am I,” he breathed out. “Though there were some close calls there.”

 

She sat up and looked down at him. “Loki, what’s happening? Please, tell me. I was so worried.”

 

He brushed his hand against her cheek. “Don’t worry for me, love. I am not so easily defeated. It would take a lot to kill me.”

 

She laid back down, staring at the ceiling, still trying to catch her breath. She considered the state he’d been in recently, the things he’d said. “Avengers?” she asked.

 

He sighed. “Yes.”

 

“Are they winning?” she asked, not sure what answer she was hoping for, which was worrisome. She should have pretty clear feelings about all of this, shouldn’t she?

 

He eyed her then, looking for something in her expression. Whether he found it or not, she didn’t know. “They won’t,” he said, simply.

 

She nodded and went back to staring at the ceiling.

 

“I may have to move you, though. Soon,” he said.

 

“Move me?” she asked. “Why?”

 

“They’re close to finding you.”

 

“Oh,” she responded. She didn’t know what else to say. She missed her brother, she missed her freedom, her house, her life. She wanted to be rescued. But when she thought of life outside these walls, she pictured something she knew she could never have. She pictured the world she’d left, knowing that it had changed without her. She pictured her home, her life, but now with Mischief. And Loki. But that could never happen, her two worlds combining. This would end one way or another. If she was rescued, she wouldn’t have Loki. He’d either be dead or the enemy.  If he won, then she wouldn’t have her old life, or her brother. It was all too much, and it made her sad. She focused on something more practical.

 

“What happens to me if you die?” she asked.

 

“I won’t,” he assured her again. “But if I did,” he continued, “the spell on this place would break, and you and Mischief would be free.”

 

She considered this. He leaned over her. “Lest you get any foolish ideas, love, I emphasize that I am exceptionally hard to kill.”

 

She stared at him, confused. Then she understood his meaning, the hard look on his face. She gasped in surprise. “I would never, Loki. I couldn’t kill you.”

 

“Even after everything?” he asked, seeming genuinely curious about her answer.

 

She thought about it. He’d done such horrible things, and she tried to focus on those. He’d brought an army, took over the world, kidnapped her, used her as bait to get to her brother, manipulated her. And yet, she found that she couldn’t hate him, couldn’t want him dead. Because he’d also been kind, thoughtful. He’d given her incredible gifts and shared a part of himself with her she felt he probably didn’t share often. She’d seen the layers underneath, and she found herself caring for him. This past week without him had brought her feelings a little closer to the surface. She’d been worried about her own situation, sure, but that wasn’t what drove her into a panic. She’d worried for him, about him. She’d wanted to see him again, to be with him again. Beyond that, she refused to define her feelings, but she knew that she didn’t want him dead, and that she could acknowledge.

 

She looked over at him, still watching her intently. She nodded, “After everything. I don’t want you dead, Loki.”

 

He seemed to lose himself in thought, and she let him. Whatever they had between them was complicated and strange and probably very unhealthy. But here they were anyway.

 

Eventually, he pulled himself out of his thoughts and pulled her to him, sighing into her hair.  “What a mess,” she said.

 

He seemed to understand her and nodded. “Indeed,” he answered.


	10. Finding Sara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki visits her at night, and she finds a surprise in the garden.  
> Tasty smut.

It was late, and she was asleep, though consciousness was tugging at her, triggered by some noise, some movement that she hadn’t yet noticed. And then she felt a dip at the foot of the bed and woke abruptly.

 

She looked down and saw Loki, creeping into her bed, wearing nothing but his leather pants. She inhaled sharply, taking in the predatory look in his eyes, in the way he crawled up her body. She had never seen anything so goddamn sexy in her entire life. Her thighs clenched at the sight of him.

 

He pulled the covers away, smiling mischievously when he saw she was naked. She leaned forward and cupped the back of his neck, bringing his mouth to hers.

 

She wanted to wake up like this every day.

 

His mouth worked against hers as he settled his hips between her thighs and pressed himself against her. She moaned into his mouth and grabbed at his back, pulling him closer. His chest hovered above her, his hips rocking against her core as he kissed her with abandon.

 

He kissed his way back down, pushing her knees up and thighs apart. He blew a hot breath onto her, and she clenched, legs held open only by his hands. His tongue circled her clit and she arched her back, trying to press herself into his mouth. He held her hips down and sucked at her gently, running his fingers along her folds. She groaned. “Loki, please. More,” she begged.

 

He didn’t say anything, just did as she asked. He plunged his fingers into her soaking wet entrance while at the same time taking her clit fully into his mouth. He curled his fingers forward and found the spot he knew she loved, working her quickly with fingers and tongue. She felt the hot rush of her orgasm approaching, and she bucked underneath him. He felt her need and sped up, sucking and licking, fingers working furiously within her.

 

She came yelling his name, clenching her thighs around his head, pulling at his hair. He licked her slowly, deliberately, bringing her down. She looked down at his face between her thighs, and she groaned again at the sight.

 

He worked his way back up her body and kissed her. She tasted herself on his tongue, and it made her moan. She reached between them and tugged at his pants. He got the message and pulled them off. How he made that look elegant, she didn’t know. But he did. He was back on top of her quickly, rubbing against her wet heat, moaning into her mouth as he kissed her. He reached down and adjusted his position, lining the head of his cock up with her entrance. He grabbed her hip and pushed himself fully inside her. The look on his face was pure ecstasy, and she reveled in it. He rocked his hips forward over and over. She took a moment to appreciate the move of his hips as he lost himself inside her. She put one hand on his back and one on his ass, feeling the way they moved together as he plunged steadily into her. He was truly beautiful.

 

She felt all his tight control under her hands, and she wanted him to lose it. “I want to feel you come, Loki,” she whispered.

 

His fingers tightened on her and his pace increased. His strokes hit her deeper and she cried out, clawing at his back as he plowed into her again and again. He came a minute later, a strangled cry on his lips, his cock buried deep inside her, pulsing as he released inside her.

 

He collapsed on her, holding himself off her just enough not to crush her. She stroked his hair, kissed his face, his neck. She rubbed his arms and his back, and she whispered praise and nonsense in his ear as he came down. Finally, his breathing evened out, and he pulled them both onto their sides, holding her close.

 

He kissed her tenderly. “You are spectacular,” he breathed, and she couldn’t help the smile that broke out across her face.

 

“So are you,” she said, grinning.

 

He sighed in contentment. “May I stay here tonight?” he asked.

 

“Please,” she nodded.

 

He covered their bodies with the blanket and kissed her again. “Thank you,” he murmured, and closed his eyes. He was soon asleep, breathing deeply as she watched him. She wondered if he ever slept in front of anyone else. He seemed like the paranoid type, and sleep was a vulnerability, so she thought probably not. She felt honored to get the privilege, and she snuggled up closer, finally succumbing to sleep too.

 

\---------------------------

 

Later that afternoon, she found herself in the garden, as she did most days, reading a book while Mischief played. He’d somehow created a tiny orb of light, almost like a firefly, and was currently chasing it around the flowers. It would duck into a bush and he would pounce, attacking it. He would catch it and roll onto his back, biting at it. She was so caught up in watching him play his game that she almost missed the shimmer in the air to her left.

 

She turned and dropped her book in shock, covering her mouth with her hand. There was a woman in the garden. She was dressed in a tight black outfit and had short red hair and intense eyes. Wait, she knew this woman. Well, she’d seen her file. It was Natasha something, the Black Widow. And she was standing here, in her garden, looking slightly translucent.

 

Natasha smiled suddenly and turned to someone Sara couldn’t see. “We found her,” she said, and someone else stepped up next to her.

 

She gasped. “Tony!” she exclaimed, jumping up. She wanted to reach out, to hug him, but he too was slightly translucent. She reached her hand out and touched a finger to his arm. There was nothing there.

 

Tony looked relieved beyond measure. “Are you ok?” he asked, worried. “Are you hurt? If that son of a bitch hurt you, I swear to God…”

 

“No! No, I’m fine!” she interrupted, tears in her eyes. “I promise. I’m ok.” Tony looked skeptical, but took her at her word, for now. “How are you here?” she asked.

 

Tony got that look on his face when he was trying to figure out how to explain some complicated concept to someone he thought was beneath him. That look used to drive her nuts, but right now she was so incredibly happy to see it. “It’s complicated,” he answered. “But the short of it is that we’ve found a way to project ourselves to places we thought you might be, look around and get out without any evidence we’d been there. We use Loki’s magic signature to narrow down the areas.”

 

Natasha looked around. “Where is this place?” she asked.

 

“Asgard.” Sara answered.

 

“You’re not on Earth?” Tony exclaimed.

 

“No, no, I am,” she tried to explain. “This,” she gestured to her surroundings, “it’s not real. It’s an illusion of some sort. I’m actually in some sort of apartment or hotel room. It has no doors. There’s a window, but I can’t figure out where I am.”

 

“We’re close,” Tony said. “We almost have you, but there’s something blocking us. We just need to find a way to narrow things down even more.”

 

She held out her arm. “He gave me this. It uses magic. Could that help?” she asked.

 

“He gave you jewelry?” Tony asked doubtfully.

 

“It’s for the cat,” she answered, sheepishly.

 

“He gave you a _cat?_ ” he asked, incredulously.

 

“Are you rescuing me or not?” she asked, already annoyed with her brother.

 

He stepped forward and looked closer at the bracelet. “Yeah, I think I can trace this. Did he make it with magic?”

 

“Yes,” she answered.

 

She saw him typing information into a computer she couldn’t see. For a few minutes, he was focused on something else, and Natasha watched her closely. She fidgeted under her watch, but Natasha stayed silent.

 

Tony looked up. “I found you,” he said, beaming. “I know exactly where you are.”

 

She fell to her knees. “You’re coming to get me?” she asked, overwhelmed with emotion.

 

He smiled. “We are.”

 

Natasha spoke up. “Not yet.” Both Sara and Tony started to argue, but she interrupted. “We need to be safe,” she answered. “If you’re in no immediate danger…” she trailed off, and Sara shook her head no, “…then we need to think through this, carefully. This might be the only chance we get at him.”

 

“He wants to move me,” Sara added.

 

“Don’t let him,” Natasha said. “Can you stall him for a day? Until tomorrow?”

 

“I think so,” Sara responded.

 

“Ok, good. Does he check in on you regularly?”

 

Sara nodded. “Pretty much every day.”

 

“When?” Natasha questioned. “What time of day?”

 

“It changes,” she answered, “but mostly evenings lately.” She held ack the blush that threatened to give away exactly what they did those evenings, but she could’ve sworn that Natasha caught something in her face anyhow.

 

Natasha nodded anyway. “Alright, we’ll come for you tomorrow.” She got serious. “Do I need to tell you what’s at stake here? What will happen if you warn him that we’re coming?”

 

Tony looked abashed. “Warn him?! She’s been his prisoner! Why would she side with him?”

 

Natasha only stared at Sara, considering her reaction.

 

“No, I won’t say anything. I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

 

“Good,” Natasha said. “Because this may be our only chance at him. With your help, we could bring him down.”

 

Sara swallowed hard. “What are you going to do to him?”

 

“Thor plans to capture him, to bring him back to Asgard,” Tony answered.

 

“Ok,” she answered, relieved. “I’ll help.”

 

“See?” Tony said to Natasha. “I can’t believe you thought she was compromised. She’s a _prisoner_.”

 

“Yes,” Natasha answered. “She is,” and she stared directly at her, as though she knew exactly how conflicted she was, as though reminding her of her position.

 

“We’re about to lose our connection,” Tony said. “We’ve got to go. But we’re coming. Tomorrow, ok? Can you hang in there?”

 

She nodded, crying. “Yes, I’ll be fine. Please be careful. This was always about luring you to him.”

 

“I promise,” he answered.

 

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, smiling.

 

“Tomorrow,” he promised again. And then they disappeared.

 

She lay in the grass crying after that, choosing to feel her feelings rather than explore them. Mischief wandered up and cuddled with her, and she could feel the conflict in him reflecting the conflict in her.

 

Whatever happened now, it was out of her hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're still reading this, thank you, and I love you! <3 I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it. I'm excited about posting the final chapter next week. I hope it doesn't disappoint!


	11. Sentiment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of this little kidnapping adventure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please read the notes at the end.  
> Thank you everyone who has stuck with this story. You guys are awesome. This was my first fanfic, and I've really had fun writing it. I hope you enjoy!

Loki didn’t visit her that night. She was both extremely disappointed and extremely relieved. She wanted to see him one last time, maybe have one more night together before everything changed. But she also didn’t see how she’d be able to keep her thoughts to herself. She wasn’t a very good liar, and she knew he’d sense something was wrong.

 

She slept fitfully that night and then spent the next day pacing and thinking through things. Mischief wasn’t making things any easier. He didn’t want her to go through with it. He thought of she and Loki as family, and he didn’t want them separated. She tried to convey her feelings to him, to let him feel how happy she’d been at home before she’d met Loki, the fear that had come from being kidnapped, the way she missed her brother, the way she longed for freedom. Mischief didn’t like it, but he seemed to understand.

 

“If you decide to go to Asgard with Loki,” she said, “I’ll understand.” She made sure that he felt that she wanted him, wanted to keep him, to take him home with her. She didn’t want him to feel rejected. But she also made sure he knew that she would respect his choice to stay with his creator, the man he shared magic with. Mischief made a very un-cat-like noise that sounded like a resigned sigh. He snuggled up to her and nuzzled his forehead against her own. He would stay with her. A tiny sliver of relief worked its way through her stress.

 

She eventually went into the garden. It was meant as a distraction, but as she thought about never visiting it again, it ended up bringing all her thoughts to the forefront of her mind.

 

Was there any way that this could end in a happily ever after for everyone?

 

Loki would never give up his power, and the Avengers would never give up fighting him. It would eventually end with someone, or several someones dying. At least this way, everyone lived. Loki would go to Asgard and face punishment there. Or not. She didn’t really know how much Asgard cared about things like world domination. She supposed they might care a lot, and Loki could be sentenced to death. Her stomach clenched at the thought. But no, she had spent hours talking to Loki about his brother. Thor loved Loki. He wouldn’t let them kill him. She had to believe that.

 

Yes, this was the only way. Tony would live, the Avengers would live, Thor would take Loki home and maybe they could eventually heal their relationship. The Earth would be free again, no longer ruled by someone who didn’t even seem to like humans very much.

 

But still, she wondered. Was there another way? Maybe she and Loki could run off together, travel to other worlds, find a planet to settle on, hide. She sighed. That definitely couldn’t happen. For one, she’d never see Tony or anyone she cared about again. For another, even if Loki would agree to such a thing, which was highly unlikely for multiple reasons, who’s to say he wouldn’t get bored of her and leave her stranded? He was a thousand-year-old space god with magical powers and she was just some human he’d entertained himself with during his ruling-another-planet phase.

 

That thought hurt. She wanted to believe that she meant more to him, but she couldn’t know and she wouldn’t ask. Even if he did care, what? He was just going to give it all up for her? His power? The crown? The entire freaking planet? She thought not.

 

She allowed herself to indulge in just a bit of fantasy for a moment. She pictured herself at home with Loki, him wearing a frilly apron and cooking dinner. The image made her laugh, but it also made her long for something that could never be. She decided to stop the fantasy. No point in putting herself through that.

 

And then another question came up. Is that really what she wanted? A life with Loki? She’d been his prisoner this whole time, isolated from everyone other than him. Could she really trust her feelings? Maybe they were just a result of the environment she was in, the seclusion. She didn’t know, not for sure.

 

And besides, what would a relationship with him look like? Nothing about this situation had them on equal footing. She knew she could never be with someone who didn’t treat her as an equal, who didn’t respect her. And yet, what? After months of being in total control over pretty much every aspect of her existence, he was supposed to just give it all up, move home with her, _domesticate_ , and allow her to have her own power in the relationship? She thought not.

 

And if they did run off, she would never be his equal. He would always have the power there too.

 

There was no other way. There were no other options. She’d give up Loki and hope that they could both move on to happier lives after all of this. The thought tasted sour.

 

She wandered back inside and meandered into the kitchen. Maybe she could find a snack to distract her. After a brief search, she gave up and went back to the living room. Suddenly, the totally blank, completely empty wall in front of her shimmered, and a door slammed open where there had been no door before. Barging in like he owned the place was the big metal form of her brother in his Iron Man suit.

 

“Tony!” she exclaimed.

 

He opened his faceplate. “Hey, kid,” he smiled. “You order a rescue?”

 

She ran over and hugged him, and he responded in kind, almost too tightly, but she bore it, just happy to see him again. “I assume he’s not here?” he asked, looking around.

 

She shook her head. “No, he hasn’t come back since I talked to you. Please, Tony. Take me home.” She wanted to be gone before Loki got back. She didn’t want to be involved with whatever happened next. Let them all work it out without her.

 

Natasha walked into the room at that moment. “Not yet,” she said. “We still need your help.”

 

Sara shook her head adamantly. “No,” she said. “No, I can’t. Please,” she pleaded to Tony, “I just want to go home. Please don’t ask me to do anything more.”

 

He looked like he was about to agree, to give in to her, but Natasha sensed this and stepped in. “If you don’t stay, if you’re not here when he comes back, he’ll know something’s up. We have him distracted right now, but he knows we’re coming here. He’ll be cautious. If he sees you still here, he might let his guard down just long enough to give us a chance.” She paused before continuing, perhaps to let her words sink in a bit. “If you leave now, if you don’t help us, we may lose this. He could win, and we could die.”

 

“No pressure, kid,” Tony joked.

 

She closed her eyes and felt her own anguish wash over her, knowing that she had no choice but to help. She’d hoped to stay out of it, to not have to pick a side, but now she was being forced to choose. And there was no choice, really. Not that the thought brought her any comfort.

 

“Ok,” she whispered. “What do I need to do?”

 

Tony hugged her to his metal chest. “Thank you,” he said.

 

“All you have to do is be here. You don’t have to do anything else. We just need him to lower his guard. Just for a minute.”

 

Sara nodded again. She didn’t think she’d be able to speak if she tried, but she also feared what her voice would sound like if she did.

 

Natasha stepped forward and held her hands. “This is the right choice,” she assured her. And coming from her, it was almost easy to believe.

 

Tony walked her to the couch. “Just sit here.” He eyed her nervous form warily. “Are you sure you can do this?” he asked. “If not, we’ll figure out another way.”

 

She shook her head. “No, I’m ok.”

 

“Didn’t you say you had a cat?” he asked. She nodded. “Here, kitty, kitty,” he called out, and Mischief jumped into her lap. She held him close, and he seemed to do the same, wrapping his kitty arms around her human ones. “Huh,” Tony said, considering the cat.

 

“It’s time,” Natasha said. Well, at least she wouldn’t have to wait long. Natasha walked over to Sara. “We’re going to pull back the distraction now. If we’re right, he should come straight here. Once he sees you’re alone, get as far away from him as you can. You say he hasn’t hurt you?” Sara shook her head no. “Then I don’t think he wants to. But that doesn’t mean he won’t if he can use it to his advantage. So you _need_ to get as far away as you can before we come in and take over. Got it?” Sara nodded again.

 

“As soon as he’s focused on us,” Tony said, eyeing her seriously, “you haul ass out that door and you don’t stop running, ok? There are some SHIELD agents down there ready to help you. They’ll get you away from the danger, and they’ll keep you safe until I can come get you.” Tony bent down to look at her. “Stick to the plan, and I promise, I’ll keep you safe. I’ll get you home.”

 

“Ok,” Sara agreed.

 

Everything started moving very quickly. She heard the loud stomping of several new people moving into the room. She didn’t look to see who was here, though, instead focusing on Mischief and watching the world outside, moving steadily along as it had the whole time she’d been here. She tried hard not to think about anything at all, and especially not the way her heart felt like it was breaking.

 

Everything got really quiet, and she assumed they’d all hidden away.

 

Loki suddenly appeared, tense, ready for a fight, in his full battle regalia. When no fight immediately announced itself, he looked over at Sara on the couch. He must have seen her feelings on her face because he suddenly shifted out of his armor and knelt next to her, a look of deep concern on his face.

 

“What’s happened?” he asked, examining her face. “Are you alright?”

 

The genuine concern in his voice broke her, and tears began to fall down her cheeks. He heard a small noise just then, and he understood. He grabbed her shoulders and forced her to look at him. “Oh, love,” he asked, almost pleading, “what have you done?”

 

“I’m sorry, Loki,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

 

He pulled back just a bit and cupped her face, wiping her tears with his thumb. “Sentiment,” he whispered. And whether he meant hers or his own, she didn’t know, because suddenly the entire world went black.

 

Loki stood and phased in to all his armor, including helm and scepter, as the Avengers flooded into the room.

 

Tony looked at the empty couch where his sister had been a moment ago. “Where is she?” he yelled. “What did you do with her?!”

 

Loki’s smile was feral. “She’s safe,” he answered. “Certainly safer than you right now.”

 

Thor stepped in front of Tony, holding him back. “Loki, stop this,” he ordered. “Give up and come home with me, and we will show you mercy.”

 

Loki snarled at him. “I think not, brother.”

 

Tony held out his hands, palms alight and ready to shoot. “Alright then, we do this the hard way.” And all hell broke out.

 

\----------------------------------------------

 

Sara woke to someone shaking her, telling her to wake up. She suddenly remembered everything that had happened and abruptly came into consciousness, sitting straight up. She looked around, trying to figure out where she was.

 

“Hey, it’s ok. It’s ok. You’re safe,” a familiar voice comforted her.

 

She looked over to the owner of the voice and she saw Tony. She looked around. She was home, laying on her couch. “Tony?” she asked, panicked, “How did I get here? What happened with Loki?”

 

He tried to shush her, to quiet her. “Hey, it’s ok. It’s ok. Here, drink this.” She took the glass of water he offered and drank deeply. She did feel a little calmer. But she needed to know what she’d missed.

 

“What happened?” she reasserted.

 

He grinned at her. “We won.”

 

She looked at him questioningly. “After you didn’t stick to the plan,” he said, pointedly, “Loki disappeared you. Apparently, he sent you here.” He shrugged. “Anyway, we fought, all of us, and, let me tell you, it was a hell of a fight. But we won, and I found you here. At home. You’re safe.”

 

She didn’t know what to think. It was all over. Just like that. And she’d missed it because Loki had sent her home, of all places. She didn’t understand why.

 

“Wanna see?” he asked, holding out a small device.

 

“See what?” she asked.

 

He pressed a button on the device, and a small video popped up. It was Loki. In chains. Being pulled by Thor and trailed by the Avengers. And he was…gagged? Thor held up a glass container, and Loki took one handle, while Thor took the other. Thor nodded his head, turned his handle, and suddenly they were gone in a flash of blue light. The screen went dark

 

The image of Loki looking so beaten, pushed along in chains, muzzled, defeated, stayed with her, as it would for a long time, she imagined. Because even though she _knew_ she’d done the right thing, her heart felt nothing but sick regret.

 

She began sobbing, and Tony held her, assuming it was the trauma of it all. She let him, and she held onto him tightly, choking on her sobs and crying until her tears began to run out. Tony, for his part, just held her, every once in a while speaking softly, telling her that everything was going to be ok.

 

As her breathing began to even out and her tears began to slow, he looked at her. “Hey,” he said. “there’s one more thing. Maybe it’ll make you feel better.” He grinned and reached down. “He sent the cat with you.”

 

She laughed and grabbed Mischief, holding him tightly to her. As he nuzzled her, a little piece of her put itself back together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're thinking, "Hey, I didn't get invested in a smutty fluffy fic just to have it end badly," then I couldn't agree more. And worry not, because I wouldn't do that to you. I love these two together, but there was just no way this situation could end well. So, immediately after posting this chapter, I will post Part 2 of this fic, where Loki and Sara actually decide to try out a relationship together. Lots of smut, fluff, and good feelings. In addition, because I love you guys oh so much, I will post not one, but two chapters for you today. 
> 
> Again, thank you so much to everyone who has made it this far, commented, and left kudos. If you liked it, let me know. I hope to see you all in Part 2!
> 
>  
> 
> EDIT: If you're interested, I’ve written Bound, this story from Loki’s POV:  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/16038914/chapters/37438715


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